Thoughts 12

"Ehn enn, so I am now a woman, and not your dearest?" she teased.
You speak like her, your laugh echoes hers. The same light radiates from you, and your silliness mirrors hers, yet it’s clear now, you are not her, but a forerunner of the one still to come. I, too, have shown glimpses of he who is meant to arrive. But are we destined to be Him or Her? No, we are not.
Had we ventured further, we might’ve drifted into a love that burns brightly but never warms, passion without peace, longing without rest. It would have been like chasing a mirage; the closer we came, the more elusive it would become, pulling us apart even as we reached for each other.
So, for now, you’ll remain simply dear, not my dearest. And perhaps that’s the only way to keep what we have from unraveling.